Slut
by xoxstargirlxox
Summary: Definition: Adrian Lee // In which she thinks, remembers, and is insecure. // T for a reason.


I _am_ sensuous, and people doesn't understand that it's a part of me. Adrian, the baton-bearing slut. The drum major diva. I've heard it all, believe me. There's a funny, sick sort of pleasure in being famous for sex. Is that so wrong?

Don't answer that. Not if you're one of those people who don't believe in sex before marriage. Not if you're some hardcore Christian like Grace, and not if you're some delusional teenage mother like Amy. But if you're a little like me, then you understand.

_Sex_ is a basic human need. We learned that in Psychology last year. It was the most hilarious lesson, actually, because of the way the teacher's eyes glazed over every time she said the word. You could tell what she was thinking of.

Then we had to give a report, something about the mental repercussions. I was like sweet little Mrs. Hurley, and everyone knew exactly what I was thinking of every time I said how wonderful it is.

Hell, half of them were thinking the same thing. With me. I know that, and you know what? I _like_ that. Call it some kind of power trip if you want, but I _love _that pull I have on people.

I _am _sensuous, and that's why it's so hard being with Ricky, now. Because we're sensuous together—we're damn sexy together—and Grace Bowman had to go and ruin all that when she started to make sense about why we shouldn't throw away sex.

Don't get me wrong. When Adrian Lee throws away sex, it's still good. For the boy, definitely, and for me too, or else why would I have thrown it away all these years? God knows I can stop anytime I want. Aren't I proving that right now? _Let's just talk_, I'll say to Ricky, and we lie under the covers for hours and hours, just enjoying each other. _Let's just fuck_, he'll say back, and even when he gets dressed and leaves, even then I stay there, prim and pure.

I love sex, but I love Ricky more. If Grace is right; if not giving a man everything no matter how much he wants it will make the relationship last, then by God, we'll be together when we're two hundred! I hate giving up one to have the other, but if I have sex and have Ricky, I lose him faster than with this limbo we're in now.

You know, sometimes I think Grace Bowman hasn't the foggiest idea what she's talking about.

Like right now . . . now, Ricky's over at Amy's house and I'm sitting here, not even that far away from him, hoping he'll stop by when he's done with her.

He and Amy go way back. Since band camp. Believe me, that was one band camp that did _not_ go as planned.

But anyway, Ricky and Amy . . . well, clearly they have no problem with sex, and they've got John to prove it. Why Grace is trying to put me off sex when the greater problem lies with the badass drummer and sweet little French horn player, I have no idea. I never had a baby. And now I guess I never will—not until I'm good and old—all because Grace Bowman is taking away my sensuality.

I suppose I shouldn't be so hard on the poor girl. She's my best friend. I love her.

But I love Ricky more.

I might love sex more too.

Don't tell Grace that.

Where was I? Let's rewind . . . I love sex, I love Ricky, I love Grace . . . oh. Amy. Should I say, Amy and Ricky.

When Ricky and I don't have sex, he goes elsewhere. I hope Amy's not stupid enough to put out for him. Again. Maybe I'll go check . . .

. . . No. I promised Ricky I wouldn't. Sort of.

No, that's not true. My exact wording was, "I won't spy on you if you won't give me a reason to."

Only how am I supposed to know if there's a reason to if I don't spy on him first?

The window's not very far away. If I just tiptoe over there and pull back the curtain a little bit, I'll be looking right at them. Hell, it's a windy night, maybe the curtain will fly back of its own accord.

At least, maybe they'll believe it did when they wonder how I knew that were having sex. And they thought I wouldn't find out! Me, Adrian Lee, the baton-bearing slut who knows exactly how if feels to be in their place.

Well, I love Ricky, and I don't love Amy. I need Ricky, and if he thinks he needs her, he's wrong. I'm sensuous, I'm sexy, and I am Adrian Lee.

And I'm terribly afraid of what I might find if I pull back that curtain.

* * *

**In my world, this takes place during last week's episode when, irony of ironies, Ricky and Amy's interaction is not entirely platonic. I decided halfway through to write it differently than I'd planned, so hopefully that's not too obvious and this isn't too ridiculous (although I did say sex as many times as possible on purpose ;D ).**

**I'd love to hear your thoughts.**


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